


some hearts

by srmiller



Series: My Heartbeat Sounds a lot Like Your Name [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of PTSD, all the delinquents are here, bellamy 'i love you and i'll wait till you're ready' blake, clarke 'i love you but i'm not sure i'm ready' griffin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: Clarke is in a car accident and survives her second near death experience in almost as many years and after nearly sleepwalking her way through life she realizes it's about time to she lives her life with the people she loves. (Bellamy. She means Bellamy)





	1. (get all the right breaks)

Bellamy followed Clarke into the room Lincoln had pointed to in the ER. It consisted of three actual walls and a curtain for the fourth which almost gave them a sense of privacy.

He’d been watching her carefully since he and Wick had barreled into the ER’s waiting room after getting a call from Clarke about how she and Raven had been in a car accident. Clarke was favoring her right side, and he tried to trust her that she was okay, but there was also a cut above her eye and a bruise forming across her chest from where the seat belt had kept her from flying out of the window of Raven’s truck.

She tended to brush aside her own pain, bury it or ignore it, and there was always shock to take into account, so he didn’t feel too bad about having someone else look at her even though she insisted she was fine.

“You didn’t need to bully Lincoln into checking me out,” Clarke was saying as she lowered herself onto the hospital bed. “He probably has more than enough work upstairs in Peds to keep him busy.”

Bellamy stuffed his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “As my brother-in-law he’s required to drop everything when my friend gets hit by a car.”

“I wasn’t hit by a car,” she argued as he grabbed a stool from the corner and rolled it so he sat directly in to front of her. “A car hit the car I was in.”

“Fuck semantics,” he bit out. Now that he knew she was in one piece he could allow himself to feel all of the panic and terror which had followed him from his house to the hospital. Not so long ago he’d gotten a similar call from Clarke, telling him there had been an attack at the make-shift hospital she’d been working at an ocean and a continent away. She’d promised him she was okay but he could tell from the way her voice had wobbled she’d been anything but.

It had taken more than a year for her to claw her way back and while he was thankful she was physically alright after an accident that could have killed her, he knew there was a lot more going on inside her head than her expression revealed.

 _She could have died_ , a voice echoed in his head with a kind of breath stealing punch to the gut and without realizing what he was doing, he reached for her. She seemed to understand as she leaned into his touch as he moved closer to her.

“I just…I need this.” His voice was suddenly hoarse and there were tears at the back of his eyes he’d have to hold off until later. “You’re okay but you almost weren’t and I need this.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, her fingers delving into the thick strands of his hair as she pulled him closer, almost as desperate as him.

They held onto each other, lips alternately aggressive and gentle until a voice pierced through the emotion.

“I can come back.”

Bellamy pulled back and took a moment to catch his breath before he looked over his shoulder at Lincoln. “No, if we give her the chance, she’ll run.”

“Yeah. Looked to me like she was about to flee.”

The look he gave Lincoln was unimpressed but Bellamy stood up so he could out of the way. Setting a suture kit on the bed next to Clarke, Lincoln took Bellamy’s now vacant seat to get a better look at the scrapes on her face.

After a few moments of quiet inspection Lincoln leaned back. “Most of these will heal on their own.”

“What a shock, the doctor diagnosed herself properly.”

“This one needs stitches,” Lincoln informed her, touching the skin at her temple.

Bellamy watched Clarke narrow her eyes, her voice a warning. “Lincoln.”

“Humor me.”

“And here I thought scars were supposed to be sexy,” she remarked as her eyes slid over to Bellamy who immediately rolled his own back at her.

“Not if they could have been prevented by basic medical care they’re not.”

Clarke seemed to ignore him and looked back at Lincoln, her eyes a little unfocused because of how close he was. “How is Raven?”

Lincoln’s voice changed, a little flatter as he focused on the cut above Clarke’s eye. “Headed up to surgery any minute now.”

Bellamy caught Clarke’s glance when she looked up at him. “We’re not going.”

It had crossed his mind to kidnap Clarke in order to get her to leave the hospital, but he’d dismissed the idea seconds later because he wanted to be here too. “I know.”

It only took a few minutes, and before long Lincoln pushed the stool back and studied Clarke. “You’re all set to go. We’ll get your release papers and then you guys can head to the waiting room.”

Bellamy reached out to help Clarke off the table as she asked. “Which one?”

“Not sure,” he admitted as he gathered the used tools. “I’ll find out and text you.”

Bellamy laid a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. “Thanks for doing this.”

“She’s family,” was all Lincoln said before disappearing behind the curtain.

Bellamy waited for the curtain to fall back into place and when it did he released Clarke’s hand and wrapped her up in his arms.

“Fuck, Clarke.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his t-shirt even though she had nothing whatsoever to apologize for.

“What happened?”

“Raven wanted to talk so I headed over to her place. We were going to get something to eat so we got in her truck and left her apartment complex. When we pulled out of the parking lot one of her neighbors hit us, most of the damage was on Raven’s side.”

She was silent for a full five seconds. “He was drunk.”

This time when he cursed, there was pure anger in the word. “Fuck.”

“We need to call everyone,” Clarke murmured. “They’ll want to know.”

He nodded against her temple, not quite ready to let her go. “I’ll call them but Lincoln’s probably already told O, and she probably called Monty and Jasper right after.”

“Good point.” Clarke lifted her head and kissed him, and he let her take the lead like he always had. It was gentle and loving and it broke his heart just a little because this was the exception, not the rule.

Clarke wasn’t his for keeps, at least not yet.

“Thanks for coming, Bellamy.”

“Always,” he promised as a nurse stepped into the room with a cheery greeting. She gave Clarke some meds for pain as she was likely going to be incredibly sore the next few days. A few signatures later and they were free to leave.

Bellamy pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw a handful of missed texts, but it was the message from Lincoln he pulled up first. Seeing the name of the waiting room he showed it to Clarke who was walking beside him, tucked underneath his arm.

“I know where that is.”

She led the way while he called their close-knit group of friends, letting them know Clarke was fine and Raven was in surgery and where they could all meet to wait for news.

He hated waiting.

There was some conversation as people arrived but after the first hour passed Bellamy couldn’t find it in him to sit still. Clarke would murmur his name every time he’d get up to pace and he’d try to sit quietly beside her but the fact he couldn’t _do_ anything was driving him nuts.

When Lincoln finally came to the waiting room Bellamy’s niece ran towards him and for a moment she and her parents formed a quiet little unit as Lincoln explained everything for them.

Raven would keep her leg but she’d limp, and her second story apartment was going to be out of the question for the foreseeable future and before he realized what he was saying Bellamy was offering up his guest room for his best friend to stay in until…until whatever came next.

Since they couldn’t do anything else, Bellamy asked Wick to keep them updated on what was going on and after agreeing the group of friends started to file out of the hospital, going their separate ways.

“My car is still at Raven’s,” Clarke realized as they walked out of the hospital, hand in hand.

He kept her hand in his as he draped her arm across her front so he could rest his arm on her shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

He didn’t specify his house or hers, but when she fell asleep in the car on the way he headed to his house. After he parked in the garage he picked her up and carried her to his bed and her arms, which she’d wrapped around him in sleep, held on when he tried to pull away so he settled onto the bed next her and lay there with her head on his shoulder until he was sure Clarke was asleep.

Untangling himself from her, he grabbed his cellphone out of his pocket and didn’t have to go far in his contacts to find the person he needed to talk to.

The fact the female voice on the other end was friendly was a constant surprise.

“Hi Abby,” he greeted after she said hello and he suddenly remembered it was about dinner time. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“No, was there something you needed?”

He looked down at the blonde woman sleeping on his bed, and he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the pang in his gut at knowing he could have lost her.

Again.

“I wanted to call and let you know Clarke was in an accident earlier today. She’s fine,” he added quickly before Abby could panic because he remembered the phone call he got from a shaky Clarke and it had taken almost a minute for him to get her to tell him she was okay and mostly unharmed.

It was the second longest minute of his life.

“She’s okay, a few cuts and bruises but in one piece and at my place.”

There was a heavy silence before Abby asked. “What happened?”

“She was in Raven’s car and was hit by a drunk driver. Raven was hurt, she was in surgery which is why we didn’t call you earlier.”

“Is Raven okay?”

There was genuine concern for Clarke’s friend in Abby’s voice and Bellamy absently wondered if she’d sound the same way if he’d been the one hurt.

“She will be,” Bellamy admitted.

“You’re certain Clarke is okay?”

“I’ll send you a picture if you want,” and he was only half joking. “But I forced Clarke to get looked by my brother-in-law who works at the hospital and he gave her a couple of stitches and a clean bill of health.”

There was a moment of silence while Bellamy waited for Abby to process.

“Is she…okay?”

Bellamy understood she meant besides physically.

“She’s hanging in there,” he sighed. “I’m going to stay up in case she has nightmares.”

“Well, call me if…Just call me if.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see it, “I’ll call if. I’ll talk to you later, Abby.”

“Thank you for calling Bellamy.”

They hung up and he settled on the bed next to Clarke, her body automatically shifting towards his and he left himself drift off with Clarke’s head on his shoulder and her hand gripping his shirt.  
  


  _##############################_    
  


Clarke sat up in a panic, terrified and not entirely certain why, and almost immediately she felt Bellamy’s hands on her face before brushing down the length of her hair.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

She reached out to find him, fingers closing around his wrist before she could even open her eyes. “Bellamy.”

His lips pressed against her forehead and she kind of felt like crying though she wasn’t sure why. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

When she opened her eyes she saw concern written on his face and compassion, so freely and easily given she didn’t have words for it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “This is why I had you sleep here.”

“So this was all part of some cunning plan,” she asked as she tried to get her breathing back to normal.

“What can I say, I was desperate to get you in my bed,” he teased but the effect was somewhat lessened by the serious look in his eyes. “How are you? Do you want water? Are you hungry?”

Clarke processed the questions, focusing on the touch of his skin on hers to stave off the panic she could feel growing in her ribs. “What time is it?”

“Little after eight.”

She looked around the room but the shades were drawn and it was summer so she had no idea if it was morning or evening, “AM or PM?”

He smiled and some of the pressure in her chest eased. “Eight in the evening.”

Clarke quickly did the math, she and Raven had gotten in the accident in midmorning, five hours or so at hospital. She’d slept for four hours and hadn’t eaten anything of substance all day. “Yeah. I’m starving. Any word on Raven?”

“Wick called, she’s out of recovery and in a regular room. Also, he punched Murphy.”

Clarke laughed and more pressure eased from her chest as she accepted his help off the bed. “He totally stole your thunder.”

“Yeah, I’m a little pissed he was allowed to punch the son of a bitch but I wasn’t.”

She sighed and looked up at his familiar face with nothing less than affection. “You would not have punched him, Bellamy. You would have pummeled him.”

“He would have deserved it,” his voice was low as he rested his forehead against his. “I called your mom.”

“Oh. I was going to do that.”

“You fell asleep,” he reminded her with a shrug. “I told her you were fine and I’m pretty sure she believed me but you should probably call her soon. She’ll want to hear from you herself.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Clarke mentally grimaced because it wasn’t. He was her friend, and she knew he would do this for any one of his friends, but they both knew this was different because he was in love with her.

She couldn’t help the panic which settled once again against her ribs at the knowledge so she pushed it aside like she’d been doing for the past three months and moved towards the bedroom door.

He let her, but sometimes she wished he wouldn’t.

Uncomfortable at the wave of emotions crashing over her she looked over shoulder and blatantly changed the conversation. “Do you want me to make something to pay you back for ruining your day and taking over your bed?”

He snorted as he walked down the stairs ahead of her. “It’s not like it’s the first time, princess.”

“Fair enough, but I need to do something with my hands either way.”

She walked into his kitchen, as comfortable in his home as she was in her own apartment. Peeking into cupboards and the refrigerator she started grabbing ingredients to make breakfast because it was comfort food for her and she knew how to make the perfect eggs over easy.

The kitchen was silent for a few minutes and Clarke just liked knowing he was there in the same room with her but when she heard him shift on the breakfast stool she knew it wouldn’t last for long.

“Do you want to talk about the nightmare,” he asked carefully.

She adjusted her weight on her feet, eyes focused on the food in front of her, but managed a nod. “Raven was there this time.”

“Not Finn?”

Clarke shook her head and moved the skillet to the cold burner. “Which I guess makes sense since Raven and I were in the accident together and I had her blood on my hands.”

“You saved her Clarke. Wick told me what you did when he checked in earlier.”

Again the shrug, because she neither wanted nor needed the praise. She’d seen Raven bleeding and had done what she could mostly on autopilot, following her training to make sure Raven survived long enough to make it to the hospital.

“It’s good to know all the med school came in handy for once.”

She smiled at the tease, looking over her shoulders and relaxing marginally at the sight of his smile.

“And I’m pretty sure Wick’s going to convince Raven to name their first born after you. So, Ray’s on the table and she’s coding and you have to call it?”

She’d woken him up enough times in the middle of the night over the past year he likely knew them her nightmares as well as she did. “She’s begging me not to, to give her a chance. She doesn’t want me to give up on her.”

Bellamy stepped up behind her and she leaned against the warmth and hardness of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her middle. “You didn’t give up on her Clarke. She’s alive because of you.”

“Not everyone is.”

“You can’t save everyone,” he reminded her. “And you did everything you could to save Finn.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you, so I do know that,” he argued and rested his chin on her shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

The rush of relief was almost palpable as she relaxed against his chest. She would have gone home if he hadn’t offered, and she’d have stayed up all night watching Netflix and hugging herself to try and keep the nightmares at bay. “Thanks.”

She could feel him nod, his chin moving against her collarbone. “Are you going to call your therapist?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Get off me, I need to plate this food.”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her shoulder before getting something for them both to drink. His affection had always been casual, he’d kiss Raven’s cheek, hug Monty, bump shoulders with Miller and hug Octavia. It hadn’t been that way with them in the beginning, he’d often moved into her space like a confrontation but never touched her and then he did and everything changed.

He touched her and then he didn’t stop.

Touched her arm, touched her hand, touched her hair, touched her heart.

She’d thought the overseas residency with her attendee would help clarify things, give her space to decide what she wanted and then she’d met Fin. He’d been a boy, making dumb decisions and breaking three hearts at a time and so she’d broken it off and she thought that was the end of it.

Then the town they’d been working was hit and he’d been injured and her attendee, someone Clarke had trusted, forced her to make the time of death call. Forced her to give up on someone she’d known and cared about.

When she’d gone home she’d been broken, torn apart, and craving his touch.

He’d given it, and his love, without hesitation or question.

And space, she thought dejectedly, he’d given her all the space she needed and sometimes she wished he didn’t.

“You went somewhere, princess.”

She blinked and came back to the kitchen and finished piling hashbrowns and sausage onto the plates along with the eggs.

“Sorry,” she set his plate in front of where he sat at the island and slid into the seat next to him. “When can we visit Raven?”

“Tomorrow, she’ll be in the hospital a couple days before she’s released.”

“Then she’ll come here?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

She didn’t ask why he would care if she as okay with it. A few months ago Bellamy had told her he was in love with her and made it clear he wasn’t expecting anything from her, but that he’d keep a space for her in his life.

So he did things like check with her before getting a cat and what he should name it. He briefly thought about moving and wondered if she liked the house he currently lived in and it was comforting, knowing there was someone out there willing to make adjustments in their life for her.

It could also be terrifying because it was so real and permanent, but she was working on that with her therapist and she knew there was going to be a day when she was comfortable with the look in Bellamy’s eyes.

“Yeah, of course. She’s your best friend after all. Can I borrow your phone? I don’t know where mine is.”

Bellamy reached into the back of his pocket and handed his phone over and she swiped her finger across the screen because the idiot didn’t even have a password. “You eat, I’m going to call my mom.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

Clarke nodded and stepped through the kitchen to the more formal dining room that was only ever used for holidays. The phone rang twice before it picked up.

“Hey, Mom. It’s me.”

“Clarke,” Abby breathed on the other end of the line, a world of relief in the name. “How are you, are you okay? Bellamy told me what happened.”

“I’m starting to feel sore,” Clarke admitted. “But otherwise I’m okay.”

“And Raven?”

“Bellamy told me she’s out of surgery and recovering, we’ll see her tomorrow I think.”

“That’s good. When he said you’d been in an accident all I could think of was your father.”

Her father who had died in a car accident, brought on by a drunk driver. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Bellamy’s taking care of me.”

“I know,” Abby replied, almost fond. “I’m glad you have him near. I’m going to try and make into town in a couple of days.”

“Mom, you don’t have-“

“I need to,” Abby interrupted firmly. “I’ll call you when I have details but in the meantime, get some sleep and I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Clarke hung up and came back into the kitchen where Bellamy was finishing off his plate with a book at his elbow. He looked up when she sat beside him. “All good?”

“She’s coming into town as soon as she can arrange it.”

“Can’t blame her,” he admitted, nudging Clarke’s plate closer to her. “Eat.”

Clarke dutifully broke open the yolk of her eggs to mix with her hashbrowns. “I’m going to need clothes.”

He nodded as if he’d already thought about it. “Wick texted me, asked me to bring some stuff from Raven’s to the hospital in the morning. We can swing by your place and get you some stuff on the way.”

“You know, you’re a really good person, Bellamy Blake.”

He scoffed and stole a bite of her soggy hashbrowns. “That’s bullshit, I’m an asshole and you know it.”

“You used to be,” she conceded. “It’s been a while since anyone who knows you could call you an asshole.”

“And people who don’t know me?”

“Definitely an asshole.”

He laughed and picked up his empty plate before he headed towards the sink. “I’m going to get you some clothes to sleep in, and we’ll throw those in the wash.”

Clarke looked down at the clothes she wore, blood splattered and dirty.

“Can we just throw them away? I don’t think I could ever wear them again.”

“Sure,” he nodded and turned to lean back on the sink. “So, I was thinking you probably want a bath?”

She hadn’t even thought about it, but suddenly nothing sounded better. “Oh, God. Yes.”

He grinned at her, dimples flashing and fear of intimacy or not, Clarke went a little breathless at the sight. “You want painkillers or a glass of wine with that bath?”

“Glass of wine, I’ll save the painkillers.”

Fifteen minutes later she was chin deep in honestly one of the nicest tubs she’d ever been in, a sharp scent floating through the air from the bubbles which had probably been Octavia’s body wash at some point. It was hot enough it turned her skin red, but it was wonderful feeling to just slide into the warmth, close her eyes, and relax. Well, relax as much as she could with stitches in her head, a bruised body, and the love of her life throwing away clothes stained by her friend's blood.

_Love of her life._

The words repeated against her skull, a slip of the tongue but true none the less. She loved him. She loved his steadiness and his humor and the way he seemed to know how to take care of her when she needed it the most.

She loved him, and it terrified her. She knew it was illogical, was trying to work past it, but it was hard to shake the fear she'd lose the things she let herself love but hadn't she almost lost it anyway? She'd nearly died on the other side of the world before she'd gotten her feelings worked out and just a few miles from home she'd nearly met death again at the hands of a drunk behind a wheel. He'd have died without ever knowing how she felt, and she'd have lost the chance to be with him forever.

"Bell!"

"Yeah?" he replied immediately and Clarke couldn't help but smile because his voice came directly from the other side of the wall. He was nearby, just in case she needed him.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Clarke stared up at the ceiling, steeling herself for the closest thing she could get to honesty. "For not saying it back."

There was a pause from the other side of the wall, and she could hear a quiet thud she assumed was him resting his head against he wall. "I don't mind waiting, princess. I'm ready to hear it whenever you're ready to say it."

She was about to say thank you, which seemed absurd, but Bellamy spoke up again.

"I love you, Clarke."

"I know," she answered back, her voice just loud enough for him to hear. "It's kind of the best."

 

 


	2. (have the stars on their side)

Clarke was sitting cross legged in one of the chairs in the hospital’s hallway when she felt someone come up beside her. When she looked up, she smiled at Monty who was already moving to sit next to her.

“Did you get kicked out of the room?”

“I figured I’d give the BFFS some BFF time,” Clarke admitted as she locked Bellamy’s phone. “Did you know Wick was going to propose to Raven?”

Monty’s grin was nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, he said something about it after he met her the first time. Then he realized she was with Finn so he shut up about it until like three months ago. Did he finally do it?”

“Yesterday before the accident,” Clarke told him, glancing down the hall at Raven’s door. “It appears she didn’t give him an answer one way or the other.”

Monty leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed despite everything. “He kind of thought that might happen.”

“And he was okay with not knowing?” Clarke asked because just the idea was so unfathomable to her she couldn’t imagine it. She’d been a bit of a control freak before the PTSD, Wells had teased her all the time about the amount of planning she put into the most basic of outings, but since getting back she didn’t feel comfortable if she didn’t know everything about everything.

Surprises set her on edge, last minute changes made her anxious, and the idea of asking a question so monumental without knowing the answer gave Clarke second-hand panic.

“The way he put it, he just wanted Raven to know he was in it for the long haul and this was the best way to go about it. I think his exact words were ‘I just want her to know she can keep me if she wants.’”

“Well, that’s adorable.”

“He’s generally adorable,” Monty reminded Clarke with a friendly grin. “It’s one of his strong suits.”

Clarke shifted in her chair so she was facing Monty. “Can I ask a terrible question?”

“That’s _your_ strong suit.”

With a roll of her eyes, Clarke bit back a smile. “Fair enough. You don’t think he regrets it, do you? I mean, people say for better or worse but they don’t ever actually think it’s going to happen to them.”

Monty seemed to seriously consider the question which she appreciated. “First off, that _is_ a terrible question but no, I don’t think so. I think he knew how crappy things could get and he wanted to be there for that too. I mean, his dad died when he was in high school so he gets marriage doesn’t always end with happily ever after.”

“And secondly?” she prompted. “You said first, so that means there’s a second.”

“Secondly, are you asking about Wick or are you asking about Bellamy?”

Clarke glared at Monty. “Sometimes I wish you were dumber.”

“I rolled very high on my insight,” he told her dryly. “And you’re not that subtle. Wait, did Bellamy propose? Did I miss something?”

“No, he didn’t, but I think things are going somewhere.”

Monty rolled his eyes. “Things have been going somewhere between you two for three years.”

“For real this time.”

Monty sat up straight and shifted in his own seat so he could look at her without craning his neck. “How so?”

“I nearly died yesterday.”

Monty snorted. “You’ve done that before.”

“Not really. What happened overseas with Fin… I was never really in danger.”

“That’s crap, Clarke. Things exploded near you, that qualifies as near death.”

“Fine, either way I didn’t know how I felt about Bellamy.”

“You literally went half way around the world because you were terrified about how you felt about him.”

Clarke punched Monty. “I’m getting a new best friend who will let me lie to myself.”

Monty laughed. “You want me to pretend you didn’t realize you were falling in love with Bellamy and as a totally mature reaction, didn’t flee to parts unknown? Cool. I can do that.”

“I thought I was falling in love with him then, I know I am now.”

“Well, shit.”

Clarke laughed because it was hard to shock Monty enough for him curse. “Yeah. Now I’m just trying to figure out what to do with it.”

“It’s not a weapon or a tool,” he informed her dryly. “You don’t do anything with it. It just exists.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t work for me.”

“Love is an appendix.”

Clarke laughed, loud enough she thought the sound might have echoed down the halls. “I don’t see it, but okay.”

“An appendix is just something you carry around with you, right? It doesn’t really do anything-“

“Well, I mean-“

“Don’t overthink it, Clarke. It’s not a heart that needs low cholesterol, or an intestine that needs fiber. It just does whatever it does and sometimes it goes bad and it hurts, but you heal and you move on. Even if it doesn’t work, Clarke, you’ll still heal.”

“If you lost Miller, you think you’d heal?”

“Yeah,” and the answer was so quick and sure Clarke couldn’t help but believe him. “I mean, Nate’s a cop, don’t you think I’m terrified every time he goes to work something might happen to him? But even I did lose him, you know what would make it easier to heal? All the years I was happy with him knowing I didn’t miss out on a minute.”

Clarke opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but it didn’t matter because Bellamy turned the corner. “I thought I heard you laughing, now I know the reason.”

“It was either me or Jasper,” Monty conceded as he stood up. “I’m going to pop in and say hi to Raven, I’ll catch up with you guys later?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have a thing when Raven comes home from the hospital so I'll let you know.”

Monty nodded, touched a hand to Clarke’s shoulder, then headed down the hallway to Raven’s room.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah,” she stood up and headed towards the elevator with him.

“Did Raven tell you how Wick proposed?” he asked as they stepped into the empty elevator. “I asked her and she evaded.”

“We didn’t get very far in the story,” Clarke admitted, leaning against Bellamy’s shoulder. “She wanted to wait until we’d gotten somewhere. All I know is he proposed and she didn’t give him an answer.”

“Is she going to say yes?”

“You’d know better than I would,” she reminded him as they exited the elevator and headed towards the exit. “But I imagine whatever she was going to say, she’s rethinking it now.”

Bellamy stepped into the revolving door ahead of her and waited until they were both outside under the sunlight before looking down at her. Clarke briefly wished she had her sunglasses so maybe he wouldn’t be able to read her so easily.

“Why?”

It was the coward’s way out, and she knew Bellamy would see through the evasion as easily as Monty had, but she couldn’t think of another way to start the conversation. “Raven understands what’s ahead of her, how difficult the next couple of years are going to be and it’s probably not going to get any easier. She’s not going to want to be a burden.”

Bellamy stopped walking next to a row of cars and when Clarke would have continued forward he grabbed her arm, gently, and turned her to face him.

“Are we still talking about Raven?”

She really, really wished she had sunglasses.

“Clarke, you know you could never be a burden to me, I don’t care what kind of shit you got going on in your head. I don’t plan on leaving when it gets hard.” He huffed out a laugh, shifted his weight on his feet. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make me want to leave for good.”

“Not even murder?”

“As long as you’re not killing my sister, I think we could work it out,” he deadpanned.

Clarke laughed. “You say that now, but wait till we’re on the run trying to buy fake passports so we can get out of the country because I killed the former president of the United States.”

“Honestly, Jaha kind of deserves it, so I’d be okay with it.” Bellamy moved his hand and then pushed it in pocket, a familiar gesture which made her heart squeeze every time she saw it. He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t know where the line was so he stopped himself.

“Seriously though, Clarke. I was there for all the shit after Wells, after Fin, the stuff that went down with your mom. What’s it going to take for you to realize I’m in this?”

“I know you are.” And before she could think better of it she admitted, “But here’s the problem with your argument, you’re using logic and I’m fully aware my paranoia has nothing to do with logic. In my head, if I’m happy, it can be taken away.”

He narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowing as he looked at her with confusion. “So, you just want to be unhappy for the rest of your life? That’s bullshit, Clarke.”

“I’m happy enough,” she shrugged.

“Well, I’m not.”

Clarke blinked, and it wasn’t because of the sun shining in her eyes. “What?”

“Shit.” Bellamy took a literal step back and it was Clarke’s turn to stop him from leaving.

“Bellamy.”

He tried to shake off her hand but she held on, bright red nails too short to dig into his skin. “Drop it, Clarke.”

“Make me,” she challenged and could feel a little of her old self returning at his order. The Clarke who had been brave and righteous, willful and stubborn. She liked the feeling of being the person she had been when she’d first met Bellamy.

“I’m trying not to pressure you.”

“I’m aware. It’s a little irritating sometimes.” It pulled a smile out of Bellamy, but only for a moment. “Look, we’ve never really said it out loud, but Raven and I could have died yesterday.”

“I’m aware.”

“So let’s stop bullshiting. You want us to be together, boyfriend-girlfriend, partners, whatever.”

“Don’t you?”

He sounded so unsure Clarke stepped forward and put her hand on one of the arms he had crossed in front of him. Somehow him being vulnerable made her stronger than she’d been in a while. Braver. “Absolutely. But you can’t sacrifice yourself for me, that’s not how relationships work, trust me.”

“All your relationships sucked big time.”

“Which is exactly how I know what doesn’t work. We are really good at knowing what the other is thinking and I think we depend on that too much.”

“You’re saying we need to have actual conversations like mature adults?”

Clarke tilted her head. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say _mature_ adults, but sure, let’s pretend.”

He shifted his feet again, looked off into the middle distance and she let him take whatever time he needed. He’d given her months, after all, so it was the absolute least she could do. “Yesterday when I brought you home, you were asleep.”

That scary warmth curled behind her ribs but Clarke didn’t fight it. “I kind of remember you carrying me inside, it was sweet.”

“I put you on the bed and tried to pull away but you wouldn’t let me go.”

There was a blush across her cheeks, but instead of shying away Clarke tossed back her hair and met Bellamy’s eyes. “Sounds like something I’d do.”

He smiled, soft and lovely and something inside Clarke melted.

“Adult conversation? That made me happy, knowing you wanted me.”

 _Fuck._ Clarke dropped her head and felt it hit Bellamy’s collarbone.

She could kick herself. She actively imagined how it might physically be possible to throw herself down a hill and kick herself on the way down.

Clarke might think it was ridiculous if she didn’t have her own demons whispering nonsense in her head till it sounded like truth, and she could imagine Bellamy buying into the lies. Aurora hadn’t planned for Bellamy after all, hadn’t wanted a baby, but decided to keep him anyway. Octavia hadn’t picked her brother, but had needed him from almost the moment she’d born.

Bellamy who had been needed by his mother, by his sister, by a dozen friends and a hundred kids at his job, was never completely certain he was _wanted_.

“Listen, you have been…” Clarke searched her mind for the right word, letting a second of silence pass until she knew she had the correct one. “ _Vital_ to my life since pretty much the moment I met you.”

“You didn’t like me when you met me.”

She wished he’d put his arms around her, touch her, but he didn’t. Bellamy never said why, but she thought it was his own line in the sand, the way she’d drawn hers. It was egotistical and flattering, but she thought maybe he didn’t touch her for fear of not being able to stop.

She wished he’d touch her.

“We didn’t get along,” Clarke conceded as she pulled back. “But that’s not the same thing as not liking someone. Honestly, you kind of pissed me off because you lived life in a way that I was terrified to.”

Clarke grabbed the edge of Bellamy’s coat, liked the idea of keeping him close and didn’t think twice about having a heart-to-heart in a hospital parking lot. They’d never been good at doing things the way other people did. “I’ve always been the head, you know? Wells, he was the soul.”

“And I’m the asshole,” he guessed, the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. That was her smile, she thought, the one that belonged to her alone.

“You’re the heart,” she corrected, smiling even as she corrected him with a scold. “I’d never met anyone who felt as much as you did, it was terrifying and kind of inspiring. If someone who had lost so much, felt so much pain, could keep themselves open why the hell couldn’t I?”

“You can’t compare apples to oranges.”

“Maybe not, but I did. Either way I got passed it, and you got over the fact my family’s rich and we found something, you and I.” Clarke paused, “Do you remember after Wells died, and I had to go out to my dad’s cabin to get the last of his stuff so my mom could put it on the market?”

“Yeah, you called me and asked me to go with you because you didn’t want to be around anyone you liked.”

Clarke twisted her face into a kind of grimace, “I lied. The idea of taking anyone else was exhausting. Monty and Jasper would have tried to cheer me up the whole time, Octavia didn’t like me very much, and the truth is you were the only person I thought to take with me. It was the first time I wanted you Bellamy, and I can name a thousand times since then that I’ve wanted you. And not just emotionally.”

His grin was a little wicked, his shoulders eased as some of the tension melted away. “Yeah?”

“Octavia’s wedding,” she admitted, and clearly remembered how distracted she’d been for the entirety of the reception. “There’s something about a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the black tie loosened just a little. It was a lot.”

She felt Bellamy’s hands rest lightly on her hips and her brain briefly short-circuited.

“New Year’s Eve,” he told her with a bright glint in his eye. “I had a lot of thoughts about those heels.”

Clarke briefly thought about telling him she still had those heels tucked in the back of her closet but thought that was getting off topic. “So, I want you Bellamy. And I want you to be happy, above all else.”

“Then all I need is you, Clarke. I’ve got everything else I need to be happy.”

“Can you wait a week?”

“Wait a week for what?”

“For me.”

“Clarke, I’m not sure how you haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m willing to wait as long as you need. A week is nothing.”

“Okay, then let me get my shit together. Give me a little time to recover and get my feet under me and we can do...whatever the hell this is.”

Bellamy smiled, one hand came up to frame her jaw. “It’s whatever the hell we want, princess.”

When he kissed her, the joy outshone the fear.

 

_##############################_

 

Later that night, after both of them had checked in with their respective jobs, they decided they were both too tired and drained to cook so they ordered food and spread out on the couch to watch Netflix.

Bellamy was sitting at the end of the couch, Clarke was pressed against his side and even though his arm would occasionally go to sleep, he wouldn’t change a thing.

This was what he’d fantasized about for years, and for the first time he thought he was on his way to getting everything he’d ever wanted which was strange and a little unsettling but it was something he could get used to.

“You’re thinking really loud over there,” Clarke muttered around a piece of pizza.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied as he leaned forward to get more food. Much to Bellamy’s chagrin Clarke shifted away from him, turning to look at him.

“We should probably talk about sleeping arrangements.”

“You’re staying here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if it would be pushing things to stay in your room again.”

“I’m not going to jump you in the middle of the night,” he told her dryly even as images of what-ifs flashed through his mind.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Bellamy leaned his head back, closing his eyes with a strained, “Clarke.”

“I get that we’ve been dancing around the commitment part of us, and that’s on me, but why haven’t had we had sex? Is it because you don’t want to be the rebound guy, because you know you wouldn’t be.”

Bellamy groaned. “It’s not because I’m worried about being the rebound guy.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her without moving his head. “It’s because when we start something I want to _start something_. I don’t mind waiting, I’ll just jerk off in the shower like any other self-respecting adult male pining after a blonde pain the ass.”

“Do you think about me?”

He thought about which answer might get him in the least amount of trouble. “Do you want me to be thinking about you?”

“I think about you.”

Bellamy stared at her for a moment before closing his eyes again. “Fuck.”

“You’ve given me all the space I need, Bellamy. If it makes you uncomfortable having me in the same bed, I can sleep in another room. I don’t mind.”

“I’m going to want you no matter what room your in,” he pointed out. “If you’re going to have nightmares, which is kind of the point of you being here, then I’d rather you be close.”

“I’d rather be close too.”

Bellamy nodded, considering it all decided. “Then my room it is.”

“Thank you.”

“For thinking about you in the shower or letting you sleep in my bed?”

“For being so patient with me. I know I’m that easiest person to care about.”

“Okay, for starters, I don’t _care_ about you. I love you. You know that. And second of all, if I was looking for easy I’d-“ he stopped himself at her carefully raised eyebrow. “There’s no way to finish that sentence without sounding like an asshole so I’m going to stop right there. The point I’m trying to make and am currently too tired and now turned on to get across is that I want you. That’s it.”

“I love you too.”

It was the first time she’d said it to him, so he leaned forward to kiss her. Trying to keep it calm and gentle but knew even as he tried to soothe there was a bite to it because the truth was, he wanted her with everything he was.

He’d known she loved him. Well, he’d known as much as anyone could without actually being told, but it was nice to hear her say it with the wistful kind of smile he’d seen on her face before he’d kissed her.

 _Bullshit,_ he thought with a grin. It was fucking amazing to hear.

“So next week, are we just going to sit on my couch and make out or we going to go out?” he asked, attempting casual but aware he was failing miserably.

“Out,” she decided with a nod. “We’ve done everything else ass-backwards, I think we should see if we can manage to do a first date right.”

Bellamy nodded and threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her back to him. “You have way more confidence in us than I do.”

He heard her giggle, the rarest of all Clarke sounds, as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed close.

She would probably fall asleep in the next couple of minutes, she’d been trying to hide how sore she was all day and there was no way she couldn’t be exhausted after everything that happened yesterday.

He kind of looked forward to it because he’d carry her upstairs to his room, lay her down, and fall asleep next to her the way he’d been wanting to for years.

The way he was hoping he would for years to come.


	3. (they just have it so easy)

Clarke threw the last of the take out bags away and settled with a sigh against Bellamy. The way his arm automatically adjusted to wrap around her made her want to get closer and because they were all but dating, she figured there wasn’t anything stopping her. 

She saw the ghost of a smile on his face as he reached for the remote. 

“Raven was okay?” 

“Asleep,” Clarke confirmed. After Wick had left the ‘congrats for not dying and squatting in Bellamy’s guest room’ dinner Raven made her escape and not long after the rest of their group had gone home. 

“Is your Mom still coming over tomorrow morning?” 

“Yeah, she texted that she’d land about midnight, she’ll come over about noon tomorrow.” Clarke shifted so she was sitting a little straighter and able to look Bellamy in the eye. “You’re still okay with this?” 

“Of course,” he assured her, finally settling on a docu-series they’d watched at least twice already. “I get it.” 

“You do?” 

Bellamy’s thumb brushed absently on her shoulder. “When you were overseas and nearly died.” 

“I didn’t nearly die.” 

The look he gave her was clearly unimpressed. “When you nearly died,” he repeated with a pointed look, “I wanted to get on the first flight to where you were. It took everything in me, and Octavia reminding me I didn’t have the money to spare, for me not to go. So I get it, I get your mom wanting to come down and see for herself you’re okay.” 

Clarke had to look away from a moment. “I didn’t know, you never said anything.” 

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “You didn’t really react well to my being in love with you, I didn’t want to freak you out more by telling you how long I’ve been in love with you.” 

She hadn’t really thought about it before. He wasn’t wrong that when she found out he loved her- _Bellamy Blake Loved Her-_ she’d reacted exactly the way someone with intimacy issues would react. But she was better now, and she wanted to know everything. “Tell me now,” she implored, tugged on his shirt.  

Bellamy laughed. “You want to know when I fell in love with you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Quid pro qo,” he warned her but she nodded, willing to give as much as she got. “You were taking a shot of whiskey dressed as the pink ranger.” 

“Halloween,” Clarke asked, dubious even as she smiled. “So you saw me dressed up as a Mighty Morphin’ Power Ranger, getting drunk-" 

“And arguing with Monty,” he added as if it was an important detail. “About sushi, I think.” 

Clarke shook her head, “I barely remember that. So you saw that and thought, ideal partner, right there.” 

“I’ve always thought the pink ranger was cute,” he mused, laughing again when Clarke hit him in the stomach. “I can’t explain it,” he admitted. “I guess it was the moment everything just clicked. I didn’t just like you, I didn’t just want to make out with you, I wanted to spend as many Halloweens as possible dressing up, laughing and afterwards trading Kit-Kats for Reeses.” 

“Kit-kats are gross.” 

“There’s no recognizable peanut butter in Reese’s peanut butter cups,” he replied automatically. “Your turn.” 

Clarke shifted again on the couch so they were practically facing each other. “I didn’t love you when I left.” 

She must have sounded apologetic because he grabbed her hand and wrapped it up in his. “I know, that’s okay.” 

“But I was kind of terrified I was going to, sooner rather than later, which is why I ran.” 

He didn’t say anything, just waited patiently as she gathered the words from different corners of her mind, where she’d tucked them away for safe keeping. “I thought if I gave myself a little space I could figure out what I wanted, what I needed.” 

“And you found Fin.” 

Clarke scrunched up her nose. “It’s not like you thought. We flirted, we hung out, and I was vaguely interested but it never got much further than a few kisses. We were friends and maybe if things had been different, we’d have been more, but then we were bombed and the choice was taken away from us and it just felt so real. I care about someone, they get taken from me.” 

“So when you came back, you put space between us.” 

“And that hurt more than the shrapnel,” she admitted. It had been the hardest three months of her life, keeping Bellamy an arm’s length away. “It hurt you too and it occurs to me I never apologized for that.” 

“You don’t have to, you did what you felt was right and I can’t fault you for that.” 

“I’m still sorry.” Clarke shook her head, determined to shake the morose mood they’d stumbled into. She took his hand and played with his fingers, admiring them up close the way she had from a distance for so long. “It was a few months after I’d gotten back and you were pissed.” 

Clarke couldn’t help but smile, despite the appearance to the contrary it was hard to get Bellamy to release his carefully controlled temper and it was a thing to witness.  

“When I had gotten back and asked how things were going at social services you told me you were trying to keep an emotional distance from the kids you were working with. I thought it was bullshit, but I was hardly one to argue at the time so I let it go. Then you come barreling into my apartment, all hell fire and damnation on Pike for convincing you not caring was better. You went on for ten minutes about how caring made you better at your job, and Pike could fuck off, and then you stopped and looked panicked because you’d come barreling into my apartment yelling.” 

“I was terrified I might have accidentally triggered you,” he admitted, and he’d said so at the time. “I never would have forgiven myself if I’d done that.” 

“That was what did it.” 

“Which part,” he asked with a smirk. “My yelling or my nearly triggering you?” 

“All of it,” she assured him with a smile, leaning forward to give him a friendly kiss. “The fact you cared enough to get angry, the fact that no matter who you care about you always seem to have room for one more person. I loved that I was one them, and I loved the fact that even in the midst of your tirade-“ 

“I don’t think it-“ 

“It was a tirade,” she corrected without missing a beat. “In the middle you thought about me, and it was then I realized I’d always be safe with you. You might not always be safe with me,” she added wryly. 

“Clarke.” 

She shrugged away his scold. “I was sitting there, looking at you, thinking I’d always be safe, and never bored, and I’d be happy. How could I not love you at that point?” 

“Say it again.” 

Clarke smiled, thrilled to comply even though there was still the flutter which was almost panic in her ribs. “I love you, Bellamy Blake.” 

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. “That’s pretty fucking awesome.” 

############################## 

Bellamy had woken up early the next morning to catch up on some of the work he’d missed the past couple of days while taking care of Raven and Clarke. He’d been at it for hours and was elbows deep in scheduling when Clarke came down the stairs. 

He could see the bruise on her shoulder from the seat belt, the stitches across her forehead, and he wondered if there would ever come a day when the idea of losing her wouldn’t terrify him to the core. 

“Morning,” she mumbled as she passed him at kitchen table. 

“Morning,” he replied and let the warmth of the moment cover and overcome the panic. Whatever tomorrow brought, he had her today. “Your mom called, she wanted to know if we need anything.” 

“Did I miss a call?” she asked, taking a step as if to go back upstairs to get her phone. 

Bellamy smirked and leaned back in his chair to watch Clarke get a soda out of the fridge. “I think your mother is as aware as I am of your penchant for sleeping in.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “What did you tell her?” 

“That we were good and we’d see her at noon.” 

“Is Raven still asleep?” 

“No, she called Wick an hour ago and he picked her. I guess she’s going to hang out with him at work for the morning.” 

“She was more than welcome to join us,” Clarke reminded him as she took the seat next to his. “Mom likes Raven.” 

“I told her, but I think she wanted some time with Wick so I didn’t push it.” 

“Something’s going on there,” she pointed out, staring at the soda can. “We talked a little last night, but I’m not sure how much good it did.” 

Bellamy looked away from his laptop, “If you want me to talk to her just say so.” 

“You’re her best friend.” 

“I’m aware.” 

“You’re not worried?” 

Taking off his glasses, Bellamy leaned back in his chair and seriously thought about it before shaking his head. “No, I’m not worried. Whatever is going on in her head she’ll work it out, and if she needs to talk she’ll pick a fight with me like she’s always done in the past.” 

Clarke scrunched up her nose, clearly not convinced. 

“It’s between her and Wick, princess.” He stood and pressed a passing kiss to her temple and headed towards the kitchen to get the beginnings of brunch started. “How would you feel if Monty or Octavia kept butting in with us?” 

He heard Clarke laugh, the sound coming closer before she leaned against the counter next to him. “You’re saying they haven’t?” she challenged. “Look me in the eye and tell me Octavia hasn’t given you her opinion on me multiple times over the years.” 

Bellamy turned to look her in the eye. “Of course she did, and it drove me crazy every single time she did it.” 

“What did she say?” 

“Depended on her mood,” he admitted. “But the majority of the time she was telling me to make a move. What did Monty tell you?” 

She seemed to hesitate for a moment so he started rummaging through the fridge and getting stuff out. “He doesn't think I should have gone in the first place.” 

“Overseas?” 

“Yeah,” she met his gaze when he shut the fridge with food in his hands. “Generally speaking he thinks I should have jumped you the first time we met but I think that’s just because he thinks you’re hot.” 

“And you don’t,” he asked with a grin. 

“Eh, you’re okay.” She stole one of the strawberries from the container he’d pulled out. “We would have had some pretty impressive hate sex back then.” 

He wasn’t sure if she was intentionally trying to be seductive, nibbling on strawberries and talking about sex, but it worked just the same. Bellamy was aware it didn’t make sense to most people, not having sex with someone he was in love with when she was in love with him, but he’d fucked around a lot. 

Literally and figuratively. 

And he didn’t want to fuck things up with Clarke and as stupid as it was he didn’t want to screw in the kitchen-well, eventually that was on his list of things to do with Clarke, but not for their first. He wanted it to be different, special for both of them. 

When he took Clarke to bed he wanted to take his  _girlfriend_ , his  _partner_ , to bed. He’d happily give up the hate sex they missed out on for make-up sex after being together for five years. 

His sister may have called him a sentimental sap when he explained this to her, but she’d kissed him on the cheek afterwards so he thought maybe she understood. 

He hoped to the gods Clarke did. 

“Yeah,” he agreed as he averted his eyes to focus on the fruit he was slicing up. The last he wanted to do was cut off a finger because he staring at Clarke’s lips. “But I’m really looking forward anniversary sex.” 

He could just see her raise her eyebrows out of the corner of his eye. 

“Anniversary sex?” she asked like she was trying to be incredulous but he could detect a slight change in her voice. 

Bellamy nodded and dropped the strawberries in a bowl and answered her question as he got sugar from a cupboard. His voice was pitched low, “Just think about it, a year from now we decide to go out to celebrate a year of not killing each other. I’ll make a reservation at some fancy place you’ll remind me we don’t need to go to, but you’ll get dressed up anyway.” 

“A new dress,” Clarke confirmed, her breath a little unsteady. “But the shoes from New Year’s.” 

Bellamy very deliberately put the bag of sugar down and looked at her, knew his eyes were probably a little dilated, knew everything about him was suddenly on edge. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll kiss your lipstick off before we even get out of the bedroom but you’ll insist we go. We’ll get in the car and I’ll put my hand on your thigh for the drive over, but I won’t do anything. I’ll just keep it there till you find it hard to breathe and just before you ask me do something about it we’ll get to the restaurant.” 

Her hands were gripping tight on the counter behind her, her breathing shallow. “The whole time we’ll both be thinking about the same thing. About when we get home and what we’ll do. An hour of foreplay, princess.” 

Clarke glared at him when his gaze swept over her. She was wearing her own pajamas, grabbed from her apartment, and they were hardly sexy but they were her and she worked for him. “Fuck you, Blake.” 

His grin was quick. “Imagine what’ll happen when he get home after dinner, after a few glasses of wine, dessert.” 

“There is no way I would have said yes to desert,” she argued. 

“Fair enough. So we get home and you’ll want it quick and desperate but I’m going to draw it out until we’re both a little crazy with the want. And when you finally get to the peak, you’re going to shatter Clarke. You’re going to shatter in my arms, and I’m going to follow right after.” 

He watched her close her eyes, felt his own restraint slip a notch or two. 

“That’s got to better than hate sex, right?” 

She opened her mouth to answer but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by Bellamy’s phone ringing in the other room. 

He had to answer it, his job and the kids in his care were too important to ignore, even more important than Clarke flushed in his kitchen. 

But he did kiss her, soft and warm and felt her lips follow him when he pulled away. “I have to get this.” 

“I know.” 

He knew how long he had till his phone went to voicemail so he turned at the doorway. “Hey, I love you.”  

Bellamy waited till she looked at him, “How’s the panic?” 

She laughed, and even if it sounded a little shaky it was genuine. “Like a three.” 

“Is three good?” Bellamy called from the other room as he picked up his phone. 

“Three is good,” he heard her reply as he answered his phone, the grin probably evident in his voice. “This is Bellamy.” 

############################## 

They never got back to the conversation in the kitchen.  

Bellamy’s phone call had taken longer than he’d expected so while he talked with his supervisor Clarke went upstairs and by the time he was done and back to cooking Clarke was coming back down, freshly showered and changed. 

“Mom called, she’ll be here in a few.” 

Bellamy look up from the waffle batter he was putting in the fridge. “What’s with the voice?” 

“Was there a voice?” she asked, too innocently to be believed. 

“Yeah, there was a voice.” 

“She’s bringing Marcus.” 

“I thought we liked Marcus?” Bellamy asked as he got down another place setting. 

“We do, but my mom knew she was going to be bringing him but didn’t mention it until it was too late for me to say anything about it.”

Bellamy set the plates on the table but kept his attention on Clarke. “Is this going to be a thing?”

“No,” she assured him. “Passing irritation, I should be used to it by now.”

“Well, bright side is you recently got hit by a car so if you decide you don’t want to deal with it anymore you can say you’re tired and send everyone home.”

“I knew the car accident thing would come in handy one of these days.”

They worked together throughout the next half hour and when the doorbell rang Bellamy watched Clarke take a deep breath before going to answer the door.

Bellamy put the croissants into the oven, washed his hands, and went to greet the woman he more-or-less considered to be his mother-in-law.

She smiled when she saw him and he stepped into her outstretched arms for the hug she freely offered. Bellamy had vague memories of his mother being an affectionate and warm person, and while Abby would never be that, she had her own version of motherly.

“How are you doing? Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I’m doing great,” Bellamy assured Abby as he reached out to shake Marcus’ hand. They had never met before but Bellamy knew all about Marcus. Clarke had told him how Marcus had once had an antagonistic relationship with Abby but they were now looking towards something permanent together.

Bellamy liked to think it was a kind of omen. Hopefully a good one.

“Come on in, did you guys want coffee?”

Marcus nodded immediately. “Yes, please.”

“Clarke, why don’t you get Marcus coffee. I’d love for Bellamy to give me a tour, I never got one when I was here for your birthday.”

Clarke’s eyebrows puckered, and Bellamy caught her gaze when she glanced at him but he gave her a slight nod. “Okay, come on Marcus.”

Bellamy turned towards the stairs, everyone knew the tour was excuse for Abby to talk to him but he figured he might as well give her a tour anyway. “We can start upstairs and work our way down.”

She let him go on about the house, a place he’d lived in for years. The landlord had told him a few months back that if at any Bellamy wanted to buy it, he could and Bellamy had to admit he hadn't been tempted at the time but with Clarke seeming to be ready to settle in for the long haul it was worth considering. It would make a good first home for newlyweds.

When he showed her his room it was a little odd because it wasn’t just his right now. Clarke’s shoes were next to the bed where she’d kicked them off, his jacket was on a chair, their phone chargers plugged next to each other by the window.

It looked so _theirs_ his heart stumbled for a moment.

“Thank you, for calling me.” 

Bellamy nodded, figuring this was the conversation she'd wanted to have in the first place. “Yeah, of course.” 

“I know Clarke’s told you about her father’s death, so you can probably imagine my reaction when I heard Clarke had been in a car accident as well.” 

Bellamy could imagine, because he’d felt the similar rush of fear and terror but for Abby, he knew, it was different because she’d once gotten that call without the relatively happy ending. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.” 

“I’m just glad you called," Abby waved away his apology. "When we hung up I thought about coming right away and Marcus understood and he said something about not trusting anyone to take care of my daughter and without even thinking about it I told him I trusted you. That's why I didn't come the day you called, because I knew the one person who could take care of Clarke better than me was already doing it. This was a very long winded way of saying I’m glad you were there for her.”

Bellamy didn’t even take a moment to consider his words before turning to Abby with the kind of confidence in his voice which came from certainty. “I’m always going to be there for her. She knows that.” 

Abby’s smile was small, and a reflection of one he’d seen on Clarke more than once. “But does she believe it?” 

“She’s getting there, and I’m patient. I’ve told her, so I’ve got no problem telling you, she’s it for me.” 

Abby seemed consider him for a moment. “I hope you’ll be as happy as Jake and I were.” 

“We’re both pretty competitive,” Bellamy mused. “So I hope you don’t take any offense when I tell you we’re going to try and be happier.” 

Abby laughed and Bellamy grinned in response moments before Clarke came up the stairs. “What’s the joke?” 

“I’ll tell you later. Is everything ready?” 

She gave him a look which made him smile, “You know I’d have no idea if it was.”

“Fair point,” and he kissed her because she was there and he could.

Her hand slipped into his almost as if out of habit. “Mom, your jacket is ringing.”

Abby patted the pockets of her pants and must have realized she didn’t have it with her. “Thanks Clarke. Thank you for the tour, Bellamy.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?” Clarke asked as her mother disappeared down the steps.

“Just wanted to thank me for calling her and being there for you.”

“Did I ever thank you for that?” she asked as they headed down the steps.

“Thank me for what?”

“For calling Mom and being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, irritated.

She tugged on his hand, stopping them half way down the steps. “Hey, don’t be an ass. I’m allowed to be appreciative of people who care about me. Say you’re welcome like a normal person.”

“You’re welcome like a normal person,” he deadpanned, laughing when Clarke rolled her eyes and walked away.

############################## 

Clarke watched Bellamy load up the dishwasher, deeply involved in some kind of conversation with Marcus. It was hard to guess what it was they had found in common, Marcus was a well to do former politician turned activist and Bellamy had an opinion on everything from silverware to mythology and the foster care system. 

“Are you with Bellamy now?” 

Clarke smirked as she looked over at her mother who sat beside her at the dining room table. “You didn’t say it, but I heard the word finally in that sentence.” 

Abby didn’t deny it. “Are you? I saw him kiss you but I thought you would have told me if you’d started dating anyone, let alone Bellamy.” 

There was a brief stab of guilt because Clarke had been so caught up in what had happened she hadn’t taken the time to call her mom to talk to her about it. “It’s complicated.” 

“I’ve got time, Clarke.” 

“We plan to start dating next week.” 

“Why not now?” 

“I want to see my shrink first,” Clarke admitted and it was getting easier and easier to admit those shaky places to her mother who had always seemed unshakable. “Not that I think it’s going to change anything but I want to talk it out with someone who knows how I think.” 

“You want make sure you’re not just reacting.” 

Clarke nodded. “Bellamy…he’s the best, and he doesn’t deserve to be toyed with. If we start something-when we start something,” she corrected. “I want to do it knowing I’m ready to go all in.” 

Abby nodded and glanced over at the two men. “I like him.” 

Clarke had heard her say it before, but there was something about hearing her mother say it now, in the context of love and dating, which made Clarke’s mouth drop. Abby chuckled, “I don’t know why you and he are always so shocked about that.” 

Clarke closed her mouth as she shrugged. “I guess I never thought you’d consider anyone good enough.” 

“That’s not fair to you or anyone else you might decide to love,” Abby said carefully. “And he’s proven himself a good person.” 

“The best,” Clarke corrected with a smile. “And we’re basically together now so it’s all a matter of technicality at this point, but I feel better doing it this way and he’s good about letting me work through this.” 

“I’m proud of you,” Abby told her softly.

“Don’t make me cry,” Clarke warned, taking a deep breath. “But thank you.”

“Come on,” Abby stood up. “I’m sure Bellamy can be trusted with the dishes but I can promise you Marcus can’t.”

Clarke laughed and together she and her mother walked into the kitchen and it was such a feeling of home, having her mother and Bellamy in the same house after a meal she had made with the man she loved. Clarke tried her best to hold onto it in the moment.

This, she told herself, this is was what she’d been fighting against all these years and it was such a relief it no longer terrified her to be happy.

She could do this, and she’d do with Bellamy.


End file.
